


god help the boy

by savvvoytruffle



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Living Together, M/M, Sharing a Bed, god help the girl, its a good movie and i needed to be gayer, its inspired by a movie???, little angst, so i made it mclennon, there will be more chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvvoytruffle/pseuds/savvvoytruffle
Summary: paul does not know how to socialize.john makes him learn.paul... kinda likes it?paul... kinda likes john too...maybe not just kinda





	god help the boy

Smoke billowed out of the upstairs window at Mendips, melding with the muggy summer air. The shadow of a boy, hair greased up and donning a leather jacket, is visible in the window sill, having a smoke. He runs his hand through his hair, loosening the curls that were so carefully crafted. His hands shook as he did it, showing the pent up anger and frustration that was plaguing his mind. God damnit Mimi he thought. She was doing his head in. He never heard the end of it, being told he wasn’t doing enough, that his dream wasn’t enough, that he was foolish and common. He told himself he wouldn’t let it get to him. His mind didn’t listen. He sighed and stubbed out his cigarette, flipped off the lights, and made his way to the bed. It was nearing midnight, the past hours slipped away from him. He was busy being slandered. He slipped beneath the sheets, not even bothering to change. He stared at the ceiling. You’re not good enough, you’ll never make it, you’re worthless without a real job John Lennon! He couldn’t get Mimi’s criticisms out of his head no matter how hard he tried. What would he do if this whole Quarrymen thing didn’t work out? Music was his passion, and he couldn’t do anything else right. His drawings were shit, his grades were shit, music was the only way to go. But what if it didn’t work out? He shook his head, trying to get rid of his thoughts. He saw no promise of sleep, and he decided that the best way to settle his thoughts is with a drink. He stood from his bed and returned to the windowsill. He contemplated his escape, before deciding the most effective escape route would be the drainpipe.  
_____________________________________________________________________________  
Stepping into the door of the pub, Paul was hit with a wall of smoke and muggy air. He made his way to the bar, ordered a beer, and took in the place while he waited. Some people were dancing in front of the stage where a band was playing. They were quite shit by his standards but the drummer wasn’t too bad. There were some tables, all completely full except for one where a distressed, but handsome young man sat. Paul shrugged, and turned to pay for his drink as the barmaid finished pouring it. He leaned with his back against the bar and continued observing. His eyes returned to the man sitting by himself. He watched him run his hands through his hair and prop his head on his wrist. He was staring at his empty glass and fiddling with his hands. Paul was overcome with a feeling of pity at the sight of anger and sadness in the man’s eyes. He didn’t know why, but his body started moving towards the table. Before he could refuse he was standing next to the man. More like a lad than a man, now that he was up close he could tell how much younger he was than he thought. All the leather made him look older.  
“Can I sit here, all the other tables are full?” Paul questioned  
The other man nodded once  
“Ta. Name’s Paul by the way”  
“John”  
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Paul watched the people dance for a bit, entertained by their drunken movements.  
He noticed, the man he now knew as John, was still spaced out.  
“You alright?” Paul asked, and searched his eyes for an answer, noticing their glassy sheen from the alcohol. How many drinks had he had?  
He shrugged, “Ran away from home”  
His words were slurred together. Paul figured the only reason he was talking to him was because of all the alcohol in his system.  
“Cant go back, Mimis driving me outta my hic brain” John stumbled.  
Mimi? Paul wondered  
The confusion and somber in Johns eyes, as well as his drunken movements, caused Paul to speak without thinking.  
“You don’t look so good” Paul said  
John hiccupped again, looking a little nauseous.  
“You could stay at my flat tonight? I know we just met n all but you look like a true mess, you do. You look like you could use some sleep.”  
John nodded again.  
Paul helped him stand and as they walked out the door, Paul decided to put his arm around John’s shoulders for good measure. He didn’t seem very stable.  
“Its not a very far walk” Paul assured him  
They strolled in silence, save for Johns occasional hiccupping. When they arrived at Paul’s flat, he fixed a glass of water for John, but by the time he was finished john was already half asleep on the sofa. Paul rolled his eyes, set the glass on the coffee table, and made his way to his own room to get some sleep.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
John woke up to a man, boy, staring him down with large doe eyes  
“Just checking to make sure you’re alive” the boy said  
John narrowed his eyes, clearly confused “who are you?”  
The boy chuckled. “Paul. Remember? From the pub last night? I took you back here because you obviously had a few too many bevvies and said you ran away from home. Figured you might need a place to stay for the night, you didn’t look very good. Would you like a cuppa?”  
John nodded  
Paul left to get the tea, and as John sat there, groggy from sleep, he realized the raging migraine he had. Damn alcohol. John moaned. Paul chuckled and handed him the tea. John groaned again when we realized he probably should just go back to Mendips. He couldn’t stay at this lads (what was his name again? Phil?) house. He didn’t even know him. Plus, even though Mimi was a right pain in the arse, she was his aunt. He probably needed to say a proper goodbye before he left forever. ______________________________________________________________________________  
Paul and John walked slowly to Mendips. Paul had offered to walk John home, not trusting him to make it there safely on his own with his severe hangover. He may have just met the man but he had morals. Paul told him that he worked at the record store off Penny lane, and learned that John was in a band called the Quarrymen and Paul told him that he played guitar too. He suggested that maybe they meet up again to trade chords. John nodded, and Paul could see him wince. Probably had a blistering headache.  
“Ta,” john managed to croak when they finally arrived, “What was your name again?”  
“Paul. Good luck with Mimi”  
John furrowed his brows, obviously confused.  
“thanks?”  
“see you ‘round”  
Paul watched him walk into his house and close the door quietly.  
As Paul walked home, he thought about how peaceful John looked sleeping that morning.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
John immediately snuck his way into his room when he returned to Mendips. He just wanted to go back to sleep, couldn’t bear to be conscious with all the pain this hangover was causing him. Without bothering to change his clothes or even shut his blinds, he fell onto his small twin bed and tried to sleep. His mind drifted to the thought of Paul, the boy who had taken him in for the night, and was probably the reason he wasn’t sleeping on a park bench right now. Nice lad, he was. John thought, but his eyes were too heavy for anymore contemplating so he rolled on his side and he fell asleep.  
Paul continued with his day. After cleaning himself up and changing into some nice clothes, he made his way to work. He liked working at the record shop, got to be surrounded by posters of his idols and enveloped in softly playing music at all times. It was the perfect job for him, he even occasionally got to make recommendations to people, and it normally was Little Richard, or Lonnie Donegan. After his shift ended he stopped at a marketplace for some fish and chips. He ate in silence, just taking in the sights and sounds of Liverpool in the summer, and walked home for a kip when he finished. The next day started nearly the same. Paul played around with some lyrics and chords, making use of the extra time he had before he needed to ready for work. He had a passion for music, and thoroughly enjoyed playing, even if it was just a hobby. He never expected to do anything with it, but he prided himself on his knowledge. He set his guitar to the side and fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror. Tucking his shirt in on the way out, Paul locked the flat and made his way to the record shop. Paul walked to work, enjoying the summer sun and looking forward to getting to put on his favorite records at the store. That was one of his favorite parts of the job. Paul greeted his one other coworker when he walked in with a sheepish wave. He was new and Paul didn’t know his name yet, and they didn’t talk much. Both of them were fine with that. Paul had never been very good at making conversation anyways. Business was kind of slow and coworker was on the other side of the store, probably reading or stocking the shelves, so Paul made himself busy by checking to make sure all the records were in the right place. He was halfway through the L’s when he heard the bell, signifying that someone had walked in. He turned around and recognized the man as the one who had stayed at his house a few nights ago. He was carrying a large backpack and a guitar. Why was he here?  
“Hey” John started  
“Hey?” Paul questioned. “John, right? How’d you find me?”  
“Remembered you worked at the record store on penny lane, needed to get out of the house, came here” John explained  
“How’ve you been” Paul asked  
“Now that the hangover of the century has subsided, fine. Y’know, except for my situation at home and all that” he trailed off  
“That’s a big bag” Paul pointed out (and mentally kicked himself for being so awkward).  
“Kind of in between places I guess. Had another row with Mimi, she doesn’t approve of me band, thinks I’m goin’ nowhere, that I need a real job. Kicked me out”  
“Who is Mimi anyway?”  
“Oh, she’s me aunt.”  
Paul nodded, he decided not to pry any further.  
“You know…” Paul started, “there is a room in my flat. Well… sort of a room. A bit of a room, that free” Paul winced. Keep it together.  
“A bit of a room?” John chuckled  
“Yeah well,” Paul nervously threaded his fingers through his hair “I mean it’s a separate room”  
John smiled  
“I mean, if you want I could ask the guy. Y’know, if you wanted to and…” he trailed off  
“okay.” John chirped  
“Okay. Good, um, my shift ends at 7, if you want to meet me at my flat to drop off your things?”  
John smiled again. He shifted a bit closer to Paul, who returned his gaze. His eyes were the color of honey, and he felt warm looking into them.  
“Right,” John started, snapping Paul out of his daze, “mind if I hang around here until then? I don’t think I can go back to Mendips. Seriously” he shuddered.  
Paul nodded “course. Pretty slow day too, gets pretty boring here sometimes on me own.”  
John smiled again, tuned around, and promptly began sifting through the records, looking like a kid in a candy store. Paul chuckled and walked back to his desk behind the cash register and began reading the paper, putting his feet up. The store was silent except for the quiet billowing of an Elvis record. Paul wiggled his feet as he read and he could hear John humming. This silence should have probably been awkward and uncomfortable, but for some reason it was pleasant and relaxing. They seemed to get along well and to have a lot in common, even though they’ve only really known each other for a few days. Paul thought back to the night at the pub and how he found himself walking towards John without even thinking. Paul looked back up at the man who was now happily nodding his head to the music. He sighed and returned to his paper.


End file.
